


Sleight(ly out) of Paw

by AgentSilverchase



Series: Hobbies in Zootopia [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Bunnyburrow (Zootopia), Fluff and Humor, Improv, Magic, Sickeningly Sweet, Street & Stage Magic, Thematic Thursday, t3event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 20:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentSilverchase/pseuds/AgentSilverchase
Summary: “You need to set your mind on something constructive. Find something you love doing.” Some simple sleight of paw lets two strangers share a moment of brilliance. (Thematic Thursday 45: Hobbies in Zootopia)





	Sleight(ly out) of Paw

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Comicanon, this story now has an [audio readthrough](https://soundcloud.com/comicanon/sleightly-out-of-paw)! He also provides his critical thoughts on my writing.

Gideon stepped out of his delivery truck, into the crisp morning air, and went to open up the back.

“Oh, Gideon! Great to see ya.” The Hopps patriarch stood by the porch of the warren, greeting him warmly. He stepped down towards the driveway.

“H-hey, Mr. H. I got your order here.” Gideon chuckled lightly. “Wasn’t expectin’ you to ask for so many blueberry pies.” He opened the back doors, and the rack of still warm pies wafted its mix of sweet smells into the driveway.

“Well, there’s a special occasion coming up today, and blueberry sounded like the right choice,” explained Mr. H, waving in a group of the older Hopps kits to carry the trays of pies inside. “Thanks so much, Gideon, for taking the order on such short notice. Really appreciate it.”

Gideon scratched his left elbow. It suddenly became very itchy. “Uh, th-that’s nice to hear, Mr. H,” he stammered. “I… I thought I could do a solid for my business partner, y-you know.” He always felt weird to be directly receiving praise.

“How _do_ you do it so well, Gideon? You can make so many baked goods and still put in the care to make each one amazing.”

“Well, a bunch of years back, I found out that I just really have a knack for bakin’… I guess.” He wasn’t very used to talking about his background, and Mr. H didn’t know the half of how he got into baking. He thought back to what his counsellor said to him as a teenager.

 _You need to set your mind on something constructive,_ the marmot told him. _Find something you love doing. It’ll help take your mind off of the destructive thoughts,_ she said. Over the next few months, Gideon tried different pastimes and reported back on how he felt about each.

 _How about reading? It’s something calm and relaxing you can do alone or with a friend._ Gideon started frequenting the Bunnyburrow Public Library and quickly discovered his affinity for mystery novels. He especially enjoyed getting to scour the text for clues and to piece together the solution alongside the sleuth protagonist, but he found the generally gritty atmosphere of mystery stories offputting. It brought up unpleasant memories that he’d rather not think about a second time. Reading was supposed to be relaxing, but that alone made him feel restless and uneasy while reading.

 _If you like working out the little details in things, maybe you’d like practising stage illusions._ Magic? It used to get foxes burned alive, or so the story goes. Gideon borrowed some books from the library and practised, failed, then repractised these tricks until he could pull them off with deftness and subtlety. He learned that to appear convincing, illusions always depended on misdirection: using a large motion to draw attention away from the smaller trick happening right underneath the spectators’ snouts. It felt great to work a trick to the point of perfection, where the deception became invisible to unwitting eyes. His timidity, however, drew him away from performing for larger crowds. He preferred _practising_ his tricks away from any spotlight rather than _performing_ them at the centre of attention.

 _Cooking? Baking? It’s something you can impress others with, and you don’t need to perform in front of anyone._ He found that baking scratched both itches: the simple act of making pastries felt calming and meditative, and it also sparked a desire within him to improve and demonstrate his skills. It fascinated him how a little change to a recipe could have a large impact on the end result’s qualities. Learning to bake helped him set personal goals and brought some stability to his life. He made his counsellor a small pumpkin butter tart for their next session, a recipe he adapted from an international cookbook he borrowed from the New Nonfiction shelf at the library. Seeing her reaction upon tasting it convinced him that baking was for him.

_Wow. I wish I could get a dozen more of these._

“It’s Gideon!” The voice of a young rabbit dragged him out of his thoughts. He looked over to her and her littermates peeking out of the doorway. It was one of the younger cohorts at the household.

“Gideon’s here!” “Mister Gideon! Mister Gideon!” “Did you bring anything tasty?” The fifteen or so kits greeted Gideon with a jumble of words and rushed out the door, past their father, towards Gideon.

“Hey, kids!” warned Mr. H, not expecting the ‘R kits’ to be up at the ground level. “Personal space! Don’t—”

“Aw, it’s fine, Mr. H. I always enjoy entertainin’ ‘em. Haven’t got anythin’ else on the delivery route this morning, anyway.” They formed a semicircle around him, confining him to the space between them and the side of his truck.

“Alright,” he said hesitantly, pulling a tray off of the rack. “But don’t hold Gideon up for too long, kids. He’s a busy fox.” Before carrying it into the warren, he turned to Gideon. “Thanks again, Gids. Take care!”

The kits were excitedly bombarding him with questions. “What’s that weird stuff on your head, Mister Gideon?” asked… Randall? Reuben? Gideon struggled to keep track of them all.

“Uhh, you mean my ears?” Gideon wasn’t really sure what he meant.

“No, not that! I mean the—”

“How do you hide your claws inside your digits?” Another kit butted in with his question. “A cougar at school showed me how, but I couldn’t do it.” No, this one’s definitely Reuben, with the black tip on his left ear.

“Where do all your pies come from?” asked a young doe who was probably Raine.

“Do you have another story?” R… R… He couldn’t recall what her name was.

“How about riddles? I like those a lot!” No clue.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Gideon held up his paws and gestured lightly to calm them down. “Settle down, guys. L-let’s see if I got somethin’ for y’all, uh…” Gideon looked around and stuffed his paw into his overall pocket, trying to think of something new they haven’t heard before. “Oh! Instead, how’s about I show y’all some fox magic?” He pulled out a pair of elastic bands from his pocket: one blue and the other beige. It’s been a while, but he still remembers how to perform this trick. It was the first one he really perfected.

“But magic’s not real!” exclaimed one of the kits.

“Maybe not for most mammals, but it is for foxes,” Gideon countered. “I can prove it! Watch.”

The fluffle leaned in, their curiosity quelling their energy. Gideon held up both paws. He had a band looped between the thumb and index digit of each paw, and the bands were linked together, so he couldn’t pull his paws apart without snapping the bands or letting go of them.

“Look,” began Gideon. He’s practised this opening routine and speech hundreds of times. He tried pulling and twisting his paws apart, showing how the elastic bands bent and stretched to prevent him from doing so. “They’re real elastic bands. Th-they can’t cross! Not this way,” he demonstrated pulling his paws apart. “Not that way,” he said while sliding his paws back and forth. “And I can’t untwist ‘em.” He swivelled his wrists in large twists left and right.

Misdirection. They were all looking at the elastic bands stretching as he waved his paws around. With the R’s distracted, Gideon quickly pinned his right paw’s ring digit against his index, then curled them inwards so the elastic band transferred to his ring digit. He then slipped his index digit under the uncrossed part of the band, then let the crossed part slip off his ring digit.

He had already uncrossed the bands, but he knew he had to slowroll the illusion to conceal where the misdirection occurred and really sell the effect. With his paws still holding the elastic bands together, he slowly leaned forwards.

With an austere tone, he said, “But see this. With just my magic fox breath...” He blew lightly on the crossing point and wiggled them up and down. He slowly pulled his paws apart. The elastic bands separated!

“Whoa! Wow! That was awesome!” exclaimed the fluffle. “Do it again!” They were blown away at his display. Gideon’s left elbow was starting to itch again. As he reached to scratch it, he looked up to see a Hopps Farm truck pull over to the roadside.

A rabbit and… another fox? stepped out. Probably wondering what the commotion was, the two of them approached Gideon and the R’s. As they came closer, he identified the rabbit as a certain Judy Hopps. Wearing a white tee with black trim and cadet grey athletic pants, she caused a local stir a few years ago when she fled to the big city to pursue her mighty ambitions. The other red fox, however, Gideon didn’t recognize. He was a slim specimen of their species, standing a pawful of inches above him. He wore a garish purple shirt with lighter stripes and circles scattered throughout, his trousers were black on one leg and dark brown on the other, and he carried a pale green cloth shopping bag in his paw. Is he visiting from Zootopia? Do Zootopians dress this insanely?

The two of them stopped right behind Gideon’s young audience, sipping their smoothies through their straws. “Do what again, Gideon?” asked Judy, curious and amused by the reactions he drew from her siblings. Her guest looked at her, confused. The kits swivelled their heads, surprised to see Judy and a different fox standing behind them.

“Judy! Judy! Mister Gideon is magical! He made two elastic bands pass through each other!”

“Whoa! Another fox! Gideon, I thought you were the only one!”

The other fox chuckled at the kit’s comment. “No, no, there are plenty of us,” he assured the kit, looking over at Gideon. “More than enough for everyone.”

“Well, I-I-I was just showin’ the little guys here some fox magic,” said Gideon, scratching his arm. He held an encore performance for his two new guests. He separated the two elastic bands one more time, and the kits were still as excited to see it happen. Judy looked impressed that he was able to tame the R’s, known around the warren to be rather Rowdy. Her guest, eyebrows raised and eyes sweeping the scene before him, sipped his smoothie slowly and deliberately, still confused about the context.

Among the giddy murmurings of the R’s, one of the bucks asked Gideon, “How did you do that? Can you show us how?”

He shrugged and gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, R- bud, but only foxes can do magic. Isn’t that right, Mister Fox?” He looked over at the fox on the other side of the fluffle.

All of the kits groaned, disappointed. They turned around to face the other fox, and a doe asked him, “Hey, Mister Fox, are you magic, too?” Gideon felt relieved that their attention was pulled to the other fox.

Suddenly put on the spot with the straw still in his mouth, the fox quickly looked down at the kits with wide eyes, up to make eye contact with Gideon, then down again. He must have figured out what was going on earlier, and decided to play along.

He relaxed his posture and expression, lowered his smoothie, and confidently retorted, “Hah! Of course. The fox magic in me turned my fur orange years ago. I graduated from wizard school when I was _seven_.” Judy looked over to him, baffled, wondering what he was talking about. The kits were just as mystified.

“Gee,” said Gideon, shaking his head lightly in amazement. “That’s tall. It t-took me till grade eight to finish magic class.”

“Wow! So you’re also magic, Mister Fox? What can you do?”

“Oh, a few things,” the fox said nonchalantly. “Let me show you one of them. Watch.”

Judy, Gideon, and the kits watched intently as he prepared his little show.

“So, uh…” he looked over at Judy, set his bag on the ground, and snatched the transparent, empty smoothie cup from her paw. (Hey!) “Behold! This cup is empty. This cup isn’t,” he declared, holding up Judy’s empty cup in one paw and his still unfinished Blueberry Blast smoothie in the other. “Aaaand... hold this, Judy,” he instructed Judy. Putting the cups on the ground, he pulled an ice cream cake out of his bag and pawed it to her.

Judy caught the cake in her arms, slightly concerned. Looking up from the cake, she said, “Uh, don’t forget that we—”

“This bag is completely normal! And empty!” He completely ignored her, shaking the bag upside down and opening it wide to show the inside. From Judy’s resigned smile, Gideon figured that she was familiar with her visitor’s antics.

The fox then stuck out his arm, palm face up, and placed the bag on top of his paw. “This cup is still empty, and it’s going inside the bag. This cup still has stuff in it. Now watch! You don’t want to miss this,” he told his audience. He popped off the lid of his cup with a thumb, lifted his smoothie high up, and slowly poured it into the bag. He waved it around, showing them from different angles that he really was pouring his drink in there.

Judy, Gideon, and the R’s all held their breaths and leaned in slightly. They silently watched his bag as the purple sludge dropped down into it.

Several seconds later, he finally poured it all in. He looked up at Gideon, and said, “Quick! You need to say the magic words!”

Gideon quickly recovered from his brief surprise at being addressed, stammering, “Oh! Uh, uh, f-four twenty-five degrees!”

“FOUR TWENTY-FIVE DEGREES!” shouted the other fox in a fake thunderous voice.

He quickly drew his paw away from the bag and let it drop. To everyone else’s surprise, though, it floated slowly to the ground. Curious, a kit near the bag crouched down to inspect it. Everyone else watched in suspense, waiting to hear what she found inside.

“It’s empty!” she gasped. Then the others gasped.

“Hm? What’s empty?” asked the fox. They all looked up from the bag to see him sipping on the smoothie again, an empty cup stacked underneath the one he was drinking from.

The kits responded with just as much joy and wonder as they did with Gideon’s trick. Judy looked between her friend and her siblings and smiled warmly, charmed by how well he’s already getting along with them. Gideon chuckled softly to himself. He had no idea he was supposed to host an impromptu magic and improv show this morning on the Hopps driveway. He handled it pretty well.

“Alright, R’s, it’s time to give Gideon some space! He’s a busy fox,” Judy said with her grownup authority voice. Groaning, they all dispersed and withdrew to the warren, waving bye to him.

“Bye bye!” “That was so cool!” “You should show us more magic next time you’re here!”

Judy looked to her side, ice cream cake still in her arms. “It’s really great to see you again, Gideon! We’re pressed for time, though. Ice cream cake, you know. Meet my, uh, my….” She glanced back towards her guest, laughing nervously.

“We’re partners,” the fox informed Gideon with a slight smirk, amused that Judy suddenly became flustered.

“Partners?” Gideon asked, widening his eyes slightly.

“Yes! Yes. He’s my partner. Yes.” Judy cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’ll see you soon, Gideon. I hope you’re still making those pumpkin butter tarts! Wanted to show him while he’s in town,” she said, tilting her head towards her partner, before they, too, walked off to the warren entrance.

Walking beside her, double cup in one paw and empty bag in the other, her partner was slightly confused. “Pumpkin butter tarts?”

“Yeah!” Judy couldn’t wait to take him to Gideon’s. “Gideon makes these little sweet tarts with pumpkin filling. It’s a Canidean thing. They’re great! You’ll be wondering why you haven’t...” Judy’s words faded in the distance as she and her partner crossed the doorway.

Gideon stood by his truck for a while longer, dumbfounded at the surreal, magical moment he just shared with a complete stranger.

_Note to self: find that magic manual again. The R’s really enjoyed that trick. I definitely have a dozen more of those. Butter tarts, too._

**Author's Note:**

> There's more in this series, and I'll post them in the coming days. They're about other characters doing other things (specific, I know).


End file.
